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About Los Angeles

Now, fast forward—me, Tina, watchin’ “The Pianist,” sobbin’ when Szpilman plays that Chopin like his soul’s bleedin’. “What is it? What’s the matter?” his sister asks, and I’m yellin’ at the screen, “Life’s a whore, that’s what!” ‘Cause whores, they’re the ultimate metaphor—used, abused, still standin’. I’m typin’ this so fast, prolly fucked up “metaphor” back there—meh, who cares? You get it. They’re scrappy, like Szpilman hidin’ in rubble. Love that grit, makes me happy—tough bitches win.

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Nbd, from my sexologist lens, local spots hide much passion. People, from downtown to the outskirts, wear their stories. Therapy, love, lust—they burst on these streets unexpectedly. A local coffee shop on Franklin rd is my fav. I slosh coffee there and share bizarre insights with folks. They call it a safe haven.

Gift shop in Holyoke expands to new location